


hey there demons. it's me, ya boy

by truthbealiar



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, M/M, paranomral investigators, the buzzfeed unsolved au no one needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 09:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19989931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truthbealiar/pseuds/truthbealiar
Summary: Honestly it should not have started out the way it did - with a “Friends get married for a week” video, but that was the collateral damage of working at a place like Buzzfeed; you got roped into doing the stupidest shit.And if Theon and Sansa just so happened to actually sign a legal document marrying them, and if they simply forgot to officially get divorced and if they had to share a bed when they did that Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives parody, well…Theon wasn’t complaining about that.He just still had no idea how he wound up becoming an actual meme, with literally millions of followers, because he went around hunting the paranormal he absolutely didn’t believe in, with his sort of wife and woman of his dreams, all for a job that was only supposed to tide him over for about two years at most.- or -Sansa believes in everything. Theon doesn't believe in much of anything, but he just might believe in her.





	hey there demons. it's me, ya boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anniebibananie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anniebibananie/gifts).



> this fic is for [annie](anniebibananie.tumblr.com), one of the winners of my birthday giveaway series! i hope you enjoy lovely <3

**RICKON:** Concept. Theon Greyjoy is a vampire.

**BRAN:** That checks out.

**ARYA:** headcanon accepted.

**JON:** Fine.

**SANSA:** Interesting.

**MARGAERY:** Oooh, I’m intrigued, tell me more.

**ROBB:** NO HE BLOODY WELL IS *NOT*!

**ROBB:** Have you all forgotten our family symbol? A *WOLF*? If Theon was a vampire NONE OF US would get along with him. 

**ARYA:** Do we though?

**RICKON:** sAnSA dOeS

**ROBB:** ???

**SANSA:** Why did you type my name like that Rickon?

**ARYA:** Sansa is an angel who gets along with everyone.

**BRAN:** …

**JON:** …

**ROBB:** …

**RICKON:** Um….the Lannisters

**ROBB:** Aunt Lysa

**RICKON:** Aunt Lysa’s husband

**MARGAERY:** That one coworker who tossed out your lemon bar dessert.

**SANSA:** I have EXCELLENT reasons for all of those!

**ROBB:** Okay yeah that’s fair, especially the Lannisters

**JON:** Am I going to have to be the one to bring it up?

**BRAN:** Don’t do it.

**ARYA:** DO IT.

**ROBB:** Oh god.

**JON:** *sigh*

**JON:** Daenerys Targaryen.

**SANSA:** SHE BURNT WINTERFELL TO A CRISP! TO A *CRISP* JONATHAN

**BRAN:** Why did you do it.

**RICKON:** Some people just want to watch the world burn. Like Dany. Who burnt Winterfell. 

**ARYA:** Targaryens man.

**JON:** HEY

**JON:** I’m a Targaryen!

**BRAN:** I’m screenshotting that and sending it to your dad.

**JON:** Do it and I’ll have my boyfriend crush your tiny head.

**BRAN:** He’s still sending me £7.99 a month because he thinks I’m the co-star app.

**JON:** Bran what the fuck?

**MARGAERY:** As wildly entertaining as I’m finding all of this (Jon, we’ll discuss your daddy issues later dearie) I think we’ve lost track a bit.

**JON:** Oh joy.

**RICKON:** Yes, THANK YOU Margaery. We were talking about Theon being a vampire. Do you want to know why?

**ARYA:** We were also talking about Daenerys BURNING WINTERFELL.

**ARYA:** Haha Sansa’s face is so red, it matches her hair.

* * *

Here was the thing about Sansa Stark.

She was lovely and intelligent and kind. Those were the things Theon noticed first, when he was young and knobbly kneed and wore a baseball cap backwards on his head, because he thought it made him look cool, and it kept the sun off of his neck where the skin was thin and always burned too easily whenever he was stuck helping his father on the creaky wooden boat. Robb was all laughter and intense stares and passion bubbling over in his voice as he eagerly examined the frayed edges of Theon's minuscule Pokemon collection. He brought Theon home with him, to his father with the long face and warm hands, and his mother who had a stern cut to her lips that made Theon's skinny shoulders draw up by his ears, but then she handed him a slice of cherry pie, and Theon realized in a certain light, her eyes reminded him of his own mother. 

Sansa had been perched on a high chair at the end of the counter, sipping daintily from a juice box, with her tightly laced sneakers swinging happily, and her hand moving across the paper as she worked on her homework. Sansa Stark was left-handed, Theon would learn later in life, and she hated it, because her arm inevitably dragged across the paper and smeared the ink, ruining her otherwise perfect penmanship. She had been just five years old, and she wasn't terribly impressed by Theon's Pokemon collection, but she had told him his name was very nice, and she liked the gap in his teeth, and she had known all sorts of facts about marine life that she was eager to share when she realized Theon's own life was shaped around the swell of the ocean tides.

Theon met her then, and learned that there were various degrees to knowing Sansa Stark. 

She was beautiful. It was a given - all of the Starks were. It was something almost unfair, or it would have been, if they weren't so kind and generous and loving to boot. Perhaps it still was unfair. Sansa was lovely for a Stark though, and Theon still remembered scowling darkly when Harry Hardyng had come straight up to Robb after practice one day - lumbered really - and went on loudly about asking his sister to whatever shitty high school dance was around the corner. He wanted to take the _pretty one_. Robb had scowled and clenched his fists at his side, but he wasn't Sansa's keeper, and the most certain way to get Sansa to do something was to forbid her from doing it. She was a polite young lady, and always the rule-follower, it was on every report card she brought home, that Robb and Theon inevitably snatched to peek at and snicker over. She just happened to be very creative at _making_ the rules. 

(She went to the dance with Harry, and three more dates, until Theon found her car parked at the docks, with her ponytail limp and tangled at the back of her head, and mascara clumps gathered underneath her eyes, punctuating the tear tracks that had run down her cheeks. She hadn't looked pretty then, nor had she looked lovely, but Theon had swept her into his arms and held her as she dribbled snot over his shirt anyways, and he had wished he was Robb for an entirely different reason, because Robb knew precisely what to do in every possible situation that involved his siblings. He was so rarely correct, but Theon had suspected in this case, he would have done the right thing.)

Here's the thing about Sansa Stark. She was beautiful and kind and intelligent and weird. Oh gods, she was so fucking weird.

Theon remembered coming home from university one weekend, because the Stark house had been his home since Catelyn Stark had snapped at him to put a napkin on his lap during dinner, her children were not _heathens_ , and no one blinked an eye. He had come home to find Sansa and Arya and Bran performing some sort of weird ritual in the woods behind the Stark home that Sansa and Robb _swore_ were haunted. Arya and Bran had been high as kites, par for the course, but Sansa had been stone cold sober.

She believed in the paranormal, the occult, the what the fuck ever anyone wanted to call it. Gods, she believed with her whole heart, with the sort of earnestness that Theon attributed to young children who scanned the winter skies each December for Santa Clause. She collected old Ouji Boards, and regularly carried around holy water, because she believed in something otherworldly, but she was terrified of it too. Theon had asked her about it, only once, and she had just blinked at him, and smiled with those cherry chapstick lips.

"It's nice to believe there's something out there. Something that's existing with us, something that just can't be explained by our own minds. We're not _enough_ for it, but we can exist with it too."

And gods, Theon hadn't understood a fucking word, but it somehow turned him into a raw fucking nerve, and he had to escape the cloying heaviness of the humid, summer air, thick with his own cigarette smoke, and he had fled back into the house, straight into the basement that Robb had moved into, straight out of college.

"Bran, or Sansa?" Robb had asked, after taking a single look at his best friend.

"Sansa."

Robb had handed him a glass of something just alcoholic enough to temporarily stave off the existential crisis Theon had felt himself on the cusp of, and he had only wondered the next day, when his head was pounding and his mouth tasted like cotton, and he turned over Sansa's words again and again in his mind, what Robb would have given him if it had been Bran that had sent Theon spiraling toward the edge of _something_. He didn't really think he wanted to know.

* * *

**BRAN:** Sansa’s pissed off.

**THEON:** Well you woke me up, so now I’m pissed off as well

**BRAN:** It’s like three in the afternoon.

**THEON:** Your three in the afternoon is my three in the morning.

**BRAN:** That makes zero sense.

**BRAN:** Time doesn’t work like that.

**BRAN:** Do I need to make you another powerpoint presentation?

**THEON:** For the love of god, please don’t.

**THEON:** I couldn’t get my screen unfrozen for a week.

**THEON:** It was stuck on the slide about A/B/O dynamics

**BRAN:** Oh yeah, I let Margaery have creative control over the kink section

**THEON:** Yeah, well, Yara needed to borrow my computer, so thanks for that.

**THEON:** She still sends me fanfiction recommendations. 

**BRAN:** Forward them on to Margaery?

**BRAN:** I don’t know what your problem is here.

**THEON:** I try to avoid texting Margaery.

**THEON:** Because every time I do, Yara’s eyebrows get all wiggly and she keeps suggesting a threesome.

**BRAN:** I thought Ellaria was the regular when Yara and Dany wanted a third?

**THEON:** Drowned God why do you know so much about my sister’s sex life?

**BRAN:** I know everything.

**THEON:** Fuck off, I’ve still not forgiven you for that co-star hack.

**BRAN:** ;) 

**BRAN:** Speaking of your sister-in-law

**BRAN:** Winterfell was brought up in the Stark sib group chat

**THEON:** Oh shit

**THEON:** I’m also mildly offended that I’m not a part of that chat, and also wholeheartedly relieved.

* * *

Theon wasn't in love with Sansa Stark. Or at least, he hadn't been for years and years. He hadn't been pining after her like he was the protagonist in one of the young adult novels that he cherished for their importance in the development of teenagers at a critical juncture in their lives - a genre Theon would defend with his masters degree in classical literature and rare zeal for the subject. It wasn't anything like that. Sansa had just been Sansa for so long, that Theon couldn't really begin to say when that had changed.

On paper, their relationship had changed. They were married, after all. Oh sure, it was for a video, but they were officially man and wife, because either Lommy was an idiot - quite possible - or he had done it for laughs - also possible - and the whole thing had been fucking _legal_. The worst bit was that their segments didn't even make the cut. Apparently Theon and Sansa had gotten along _too_ well, and just didn't make for good enough content, for an eleven minute video. Theon had been quite offended, and then Sansa showed him the final product that _did_ make it to the - gods, what the fuck could YouTube even be considered, the red screen? - internet, and Theon had nearly thrown out his back falling to the floor, laughing so hard his bones actually shook.

Whoever had decided it would be amusing to see Brienne Tarth and Jaime Lannister spend a week as a married couple needed a fucking raise. Theon hoped the company still mailed checks to Witness Protection Program.

So they were married. But it didn't really mean anything, except that they were way too lazy to go through the process of a divorce. It was more paperwork, and the last thing Theon wanted to do, after a full day of staring at his overly bright screen because he couldn't even be bothered to put a filter on his computer - and he wasn't about to invest in some stupid blue-light glasses or whatever the fuck Jon went on about, he wasn't pretentious, and it was bad enough he had been a literature major - was stare at tiny words and a bunch of legal jargon.

Besides, there was something seriously depressing about divorcing someone before he was even thirty. It was even more depressing, when Theon tried to reassure himself that the marriage had been a sham in the first place. Sad on top of being pathetic, or vice versa. So Theon and Sansa were married, and it really didn't mean a thing, until somehow, it did.

* * *

**THEON:** Morning love

**SANSA:** It’s the middle of the afternoon Theon.

**SANSA:** And don’t call me love.

**THEON:** Yikes.

**THEON:** What’s got your knickers in a twist?

**SANSA:** *Nothing*. Everything is *completely* fine.

**THEON:** Riiiiiiiight

**SANSA:** Don’t condescend to me over text.

**THEON:** Yikes.

**THEON:** So this doesn’t have anything to do with Winterfell?

**SANSA:** Mother, maiden, and crone I’m going to KILL Bran

**THEON:** Well I’m on board because I still owe him like a hundred bucks 

**THEON:** It would also be really hard to run our channel with my co-host in jail.

**SANSA:** Of course I’m not going to jail, my hair would clash terribly with orange.

**THEON:** Beside the point babe.

**THEON:** Don’t you think it might be time to let Winterfell go?

**THEON:** It’s been a year, and that dollhouse was creepy af anyways.

**THEON:** I know you think it was haunted, but we had already finished our shoot and everything, and Dany just wanted to test out her new flamethrower.

**THEON:** She said she was sorry.

**SANSA:** You are being completely unhelpful right now. 

**THEON:** Okay, I’m starting to think there might be something else going on here?

**SANSA:** It’s just…

**SANSA:** Arya said I get along with everyone, but then everyone in the chat started ganging up on me

**SANSA:** And Rickon and Robb and Marge started listing people I don’t get along with

**SANSA:** And Margaery might have a point about my coworker, but really, who throws out someone’s lemon cakes???

**SANSA:** But the rest were the Lannisters and Aunt Lysa and Petyr

**THEON:** Okay first of all, why is your ex-girlfriend in your sibling group chat and I’m not? I’m offended?

**THEON:** But more importantly

**THEON:** I’m sure they didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and if they did, you shouldn’t.

**THEON:** Not a single one of those people deserve your kindness, alright?

**THEON:** You shouldn’t get along with any of them.

**SANSA:** Margie is married to Robb now, let it go.

**SANSA:** And thanks. 

* * *

Theon realized it in some shitty motel along the Dornish border, with a whole lot of nothingness sprawling out for miles and miles around. Supposedly the motel was haunted. Theon was pretty sure the higher-ups wanted to spring for the cheapest accommodations possible, and knew all they had to do was tell Sansa it was haunted, and they might even get another viral video out of it. Sansa wasn't stupid though, and did copious amounts of research. According to her, the place truly was haunted. According to Theon, the only sort of demons that existed were the ones that could be found at the bottom of a bottle (his father), locked in someone's own mind (his mother) or stalking restlessly underneath the skin (his own damn self). 

He realized it when he stepped into their shared room - because they _always_ shared a room, and oftentimes a bed, as if Margaery was some cosmic deity that pulled the strings of the world to fit her fanfiction addled whims and fancies - and he saw Sansa limned by the flickering fluorescent lighting. It wasn't the way Sansa's head seemed to shine like a sunset exploded onto a pale canvas, nor the way her bright eyes looked up, full of wonder and happiness as she started waving around a thick packet he _knew_ she had painstakingly printed from the shitty motel's singular shitty printer - that she had only managed _that_ because she had almost certainly flirted with the pimply faced college aged "manager". It was the flickering light that made Theon realize it, the way his own heart flickered and buzzed and moved restlessly into his chest, before settling with a satisfied hum, locked straight on Sansa, until illumination slowly spread across Theon's body until his breath was attached to a sigh of relief that sounded like -

_Oh. Here I am._

Robb had explained falling in love to Theon once before. He had explained it many times, actually, because Robb was what Arya called "a ho", with all of her Generation Z apathy that was close to nihilism, but not quite because as a millennial, Theon's people had _dibs_ on existential exhaustion. But when Robb explained Margaery, Theon had actually listened. He hadn't understood in the slightest, not least because it was _Margaery_ of all people, but Robb's words had stayed with him nevertheless. 

"It was just suddenly like. 'Oh. There you are.' Even though she'd been there for so bloody long." Robb had been all eagerness and bright eyed, the way Sansa got whenever a new "case" - as she was wont to call them - landed in their lap, as if it wasn't all a carefully manufactured schtick to take advantage of their natural chemistry, Theon's deadpan sense of humor, and Sansa's stunning appearance and personality, to generate as many views as possible.

Theon hadn't understood then, because it was Margaery, and she _had_ been around for so bloody long, and for whatever reason Theon never forgave her for dating Sansa, but on some fundamental level that Theon wasn't really attune with, he had understood what Robb was saying.

Realizing he was in love with Sansa wasn't like that. It wasn't so much a realization that Sansa was _there_ , because she had always been there. She had been there since Theon's days of knobby knees and backwards baseball caps, and she was a Stark, and the word had come to mean stalwart and dependable and _there_ , like stones that built up a home. Sansa had always been there, and Theon had always known it. Recognized it aloud, even, which was more than an accomplishment for him. 

It was a realization that, oh, perhaps Theon was there too. He was _there_ and present, and fuck it, he _deserved_ to be there. He might even...fuck, he might even be on the same page as Sansa. Sansa had always been there, and Theon had always known it. Nothing had really changed, and yet, at the same time, everything had shifted dramatically.

All Theon had done was smile, languid and arrogant, and he flopped himself down on the bed, resolving not to think too much on the latest development.

* * *

**RICKON:** Soooo back to Theon being a vampire

**SANSA:** He’s not a vampire Rickon, knock it off. We just work at night a lot.

**RICKON:** Yeah but aren’t you going to ask me WHY I think he’s a vampire?

**MARGAERY:** I thought popular opinion held that Theon is a demon?

**JON:** I read a pretty interesting theory on tumblr the other day that Sansa is actually the demon, and everyone just thinks it’s Theon fucking shit up by being totally human.

**ARYA:** sick.

**ARYA:** also stay off of tumblr, jon. i thought you moved past your emo phase when mom accidentallydonated all of your mcr shirts. 

**JON:** She did that on purpose. 

**BRAN:** She did.

**SANSA:** I am NOT a demon, and neither is Theon!

**ROBB:** He’s not a vampire either! Remember, we’re wolves!

**JON:** Mate, you have GOT to stop getting drunk with Uncle Ned.

**JON:** I’m pretty sure Bran convinced you to invest your entire trust fund in the stock market last time that happened, just because a company had a wolf logo.

**ROBB:** Well it’s a good thing I married rich.

**MARGAERY:** Who said you’re not pretty AND smart?

**ROBB:** Wait, are people saying that?

**BRAN:** It was a sound investment. Robb’s going to be a millionaire. 

**ROBB:** Bran, one of these days you’re going to get arrested for insider trading, but know that I appreciated what you did for me.

**RICKON:** How? Who’s going to believe that he’s a mystical three-eyed raven who knows past, present, and future?

**JON:** Bran getting rich from his creepy power that no one actually believes in sounds suspiciously like that weird chick from Twilight

**SANSA:** typing...

**ARYA:** typing...

**ROBB:** typing...

**RICKON:** typing...

**GENDRY:** typing...

**SANSA:** You just displayed way too much knowledge of Twilight in such a deliberately casual manner, there is only one conclusion that can be drawn

**ARYA:** jonnyboy is a twihard!

**JON:** Oh my god

**RICKON:** I’ve literally never been happier

**MARGAERY:** Actually, I’m reminded of a fanfic I once wrote where Alice actually  _ was  _ arrested for insider trading.

**MARGAERY:** It might have been my crowning achievement

**ARYA:** shit i think i read that fic

**ARYA:** wasn’t it posted in like twenty parts on livejournal in a twispite community?

**JON:** You’re giving me war flashbacks

**MARGAERY:** Indeed it was

**RICKON:** CAN WE PLEASE GET BACK ON TRACK FOR THE LOVE OF GOD?

**SANSA:** Rickon, sweetie, give it up.

* * *

Theon and Sansa were married. They were also secretly enemies, long lost lovers, best friends who had always pined for one another, secretly parents to some combination of puppies and children, hired individuals that had only carefully manufactured chemistry, and immortal beings that had spent eternity falling in and out of love, if the people on the Internet were to be believed. Theon blamed _Good Omens_ for that one, and had wholeheartedly signed the petition to remove the stupid show from Netflix - before realizing it wasn't actually _on_ Netflix. Theon just wanted the demon jokes to _end_ , but every time he whined about it, Sansa just looked at him with pitying eyes that confirmed Theon would have to live under such a burden until he inevitably perished. Unless he really was an immortal demon, and just didn't know it.

Whatever the internet thought, they really were married. And Theon loved Sansa. He rather suspected that Sansa loved him _back_. They were the picture of domesticity, really, the Mulder and Scully for the new age. Theon knew somewhere in his heart, that he would happily follow Sansa all across Westeros, and maybe even Essos, hunting down things that he did not believe or respect in the slightest - Sansa still had a frightened expression in her eye any time the cursed doll Melisandre was mentioned, and she always did a strange little shuffle, as if she simultaneously wanted to wrap Theon in her arms as some form of protection, but also run far away from him, because he was almost certainly cursed, after claiming that the Lord of Light was nothing more than a firework display gone wrong - all to make her happy. It wasn't quite "I'll follow you to the end of the Earth", but it was _them_ , and it was enough for Theon.

So they were in love, probably, and they were married, definitely. They cuddled and hugged, and shared beds more often than not - because they were little more than Margaery's inspiration for her latest fanfiction where she spitefully changed _one_ letter in their names, as if that made them _original_ \- but they didn't kiss. There was nothing more than the faintest brush of Sansa's lips against Theon's cheek, because she was _that_ kind of person, and when Theon realized it, suddenly it became everything he craved. To the point where he googled "how to seduce your wife", because it might have been a stupid question, but at least a search engine wouldn't laugh at him like all of the Starks definitely would, if Theon dared to ask them the same question. 

Yara and Daenerys were absolutely out of the question.

In the end, it wasn't Google that laughed at Theon, but the entire fucking universe, because Theon had slammed his laptop shut as soon as Sansa walked in the room, promptly forgot about what he had been doing, and allowed Sansa to use his laptop not thirty minutes later, when her own had died in the middle of researching the sordid and supposedly haunted history of the Targaryens to torment Jon with. 

(Theon added yet another thing never to do to Sansa, because she smiled so sweetly, and swore up and down that she had forgiven Jon for accidentally on purpose giving away a cursed crown Sansa had purchased in a flea market, but she also sought to eviscerate him, so she was not to be trusted in the slightest.)

Theon realized his mistake at the precise moment Sansa arched an eyebrow, and something that was similar to panic, but also a weird fugue state of calm combined, like mentos and diet soda, and all that exploded out of Theon was the strangest sound he had ever _heard_ , let alone made. 

Maybe he _was_ a demon. 

"Looking for ways to seduce me, Greyjoy?" Sansa's eyes had been sparkling with amusement, and her lips were quirked upward, but Theon saw something else there too. It wasn't quite the fear that had her clutching for her bottle of holy water whenever they descended into dark and 'haunted' spaces, but it wasn't dissimilar. Theon's heart plummeted, when he had a sudden epiphany that he really ought to have realized a while ago, because he had known Sansa Stark for all of his life that had counted, and was intimately familiar with her obsession with all things paranormal, but he had also seen Sansa live through her fair share of monsters and demons that were all too _real_. See, Sansa believed in the demons that Theon scoffed at, but she also had her own, like his father, his mother, himself. Theon didn't want to become another one of those, and it had nothing to do with the internet.

"'Course I am, Stark," Theon replied simply, instead of defaulting to a smartass comment. It appeared to throw Sansa off kilter, because her brow furrowed, and she looked at him searchingly. Theon wondered what she found in his gaze, but he didn't bother to ask. "There's not exactly a guidebook for telling your wife you married for a video, that you're actually a bit in love with her, is there?" 

Sansa swallowed, and Theon desperately wanted to trace the bob of her throat with his tongue, but instead his fingers twisted against the motel sheets that he hadn't yet changed to the fresh linens Sansa always brought with her. 

"You seem to be doing a pretty good job so far," Sansa said softly, and Theon's lips formed a familiar smile that he could practically _see_ Sansa reacting too.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." 

"You know, if we do this, the internet is going to be right about us," Theon cautioned, though it was not much of a warning, as far as they went. Sansa had already closed the laptop, and was moving methodically toward Theon, making _him_ swallow thickly, as his eyes carefully catalogued her every movement. She just shrugged, causing her long, thick braid to fall over her shoulder.

"The internet is right about some things. Like Area 51."

Theon groaned, loudly. 

"We are _not_ breaking into Area 51!" 

His protest - though entirely well-founded, since Theon didn't believe in _aliens_ either, and he wasn't about to get arrested for a fucking _meme_ like he was Arya or some shit - died very suddenly in his throat, because without any warning, Sansa had slotted herself in between Theon's legs, straddling his thigh, so close that Theon could feel her heat, he could practically hear her heart pounding away in her chest, just as he was certain she could hear his.

"Oh yeah?" Sansa asked, more of a whisper, leaning forward so she could hum it in Theon's ear, giving him a perfect view straight down her shirt, and causing his fingers to tighten against the sheets. 

"Yeah," Theon growled, swallowing Sansa's mouth - and any arguments she might have made - with his own. Theon knew if he let her talk, it was only a matter of time before he would be committing a felony for fucking aliens. It was therefore in their best interest, that Theon not let Sansa talk. At all. Perhaps not ever again.

* * *

**RICKON:** FOR THE LOVE OF THE GODS WILL SOMEONE PLEASE ASK ME WHY I THINK THEON GREYJOY IS A VAMPIRE???

**GENDRY:** Ugh I’ll bite if it gets you to shut up

**JON:** “I’ll bite”? Come on Gendry, I expected better from you.

**MARGAERY:** Kinky

**GENDRY:** Goddamn it.

**ARYA:** walked right into that one babe.

**RICKON:** Because two months ago I saw him sucking on Sansa’s neck.

**JON:** Gross

**ARYA:** get it sans. 

**BRAN:** So?

**GENDRY:** Aren’t they like, married?

**JON:** I thought it was engaged

**MARGAERY:** I could have sworn they’d moved in together

**ARYA:** idk, it’s hard to keep track of them, they only have three brain cells between the two of them.

**BRAN:** Be kind, those are the three brain cells Sansa and I trade off on to bring this family up to its necessary five. 

**JON:** Are you WILLINGLY admitting there are times when you have zero brain cells?

**BRAN:** No, I provide the other two. I don’t share those with Sansa.

**ARYA:** oh fuck off

**ROBB:** Just because it’s TRUE doesn’t mean you need to SAY it.

**MARGAERY:** Unkind!

**BRAN:** Relax, Margaery gets the brain cell for her and Robb, and Robb only gets it on Tuesdays that happen to be a full moon.

**ROBB:** So what you’re saying is that I’m actually a werewolf???

**ROBB:** Oh my god, Sansa, you and Theon should investigate ME!!!

**MARGAERY:** Bran I have seen your point. I suspect a full moon Tuesday isn’t for another six months?

**BRAN:** At least.

**ARYA:** what about the rest of us?

**BRAN:** Hot Pie gets the two brain cells for you and Gendry. Sam and Gilly were named the guardians of the one Jon and Tormund share. Lyanna is in charge of the quarter brain cell she and Rickon share, but I use the word ‘share’ lightly, because Rickon never gets it.

**RICKON:** RUDE

**RICKON:** Also

**RICKON:** Is really no one interested in the fact that THEON GREYJOY is apparently going around and sucking on our sister’s neck?

**MARGAERY:** Rickon darling, I’ve read so many fan theories about the two of them, that literally nothing would surprise me at this point.

**ROBB:** Yeah and she’s unfortunately shared them with all of us.

**ARYA:** okay but i still think there’s something to the demon theory.

**SANSA:** What I’m most interested in is the fact that my own family is getting relationship updates from tumblr theories instead of just asking me.

**GENDRY:** Wait.

**GENDRY:** Rickon.

**GENDRY:** Have you seriously been bugging us about Theon being a vampire for TWO MONTHS just so you could make this joke???

**RICKON:** ….maybe

**ARYA:** oh my god

**RICKON:** Look, I’m just tired of Bran getting all the witty one-liners!

**BRAN:** If you needed further proof Lyanna doesn’t share the brain cell...

**Author's Note:**

> comments/kudos are always appreciated


End file.
